Toppings
by randomplotbunny
Summary: End of term exams are over and John just wants to celebrate with some pizza, but his night takes a different turn than expected once he meets Jim. Johniarty.
1. Chapter 1

_AN: This story was inspired by a craving for pizza that just wouldn't quit. If I could eat this story to satisfy said craving then I would, but as I can't then I hope to lead someone to crave that flat food-of-the-gods as much as I do at this moment. Enjoy._

_And before you get the chance to ask, the answer is yes. I have made, and eaten, the pizzas described below and I loved them with every tasty bite. And yes too, that is my honest opinion of pineapple on pizza._

_Oh! One last thing! I know the characters are a bit OC, but I did write them as years younger than when we first see them, back in their Uni days to be precise, so this is how I thought they might act before they have all the life experiences that make them into the damaged men that we've come to know and love._

**Disclaimer: I don't own a single thing here, not even the pizzas. Though I would give my left arm for a good slice right about now.**

Pizza. That was all he could think of now that classes and exams were over with for the year.

So while all his buddies headed to the nearest bar to celebrate(read: get so hammered that they can no longer stand up or see straight), John headed to his favorite pizza place.

Even if it was on the other side of the city from his flat, and was far too expensive for a broke med student, it was THE place to go for pizza. Especially if you liked non-traditional types of toppings like he did.

He had saved his money for this- eating noodles in a cup for almost every meal wasn't so bad really- and now he was going to celebrate the end of term the way he wanted: by building his own pizza!

If any of his friends knew that this was where he was headed- most thought he was going to go see one of his many girlfriends- they would laugh at him for being so ridiculous as to think that pizza was an acceptable alternative to beer, but then John knew that none of them had ever experimented with toppings more adventurous than pineapple(which wasn't a real topping for pizza in his opinion) so he didn't bother to enlighten them.

By the time he arrived the place was packed- as it always was, no matter what day of the week it happened to be- and the only place available to sit was at a two person table that the wait staff would only give him if he had someone with him- the rude buggers!

Spotting a new arrival that was getting the same cold treatment as he was, John sauntered over and asked the all important question that would gain them access to this temple of culinary delights.

"If we sit together we can snag the last table before any one else shows up. You in?" He expected the startled look and quick assessment from the younger man, but he didn't expect to feel so naked under the intense gaze.

"Alright, sure." Was the eventual reply, and John found that his unexpected dinner date had a very nice Irish lilt that suited him somehow.

"Though I'd prefer to just burn this place down for being so rude first." The brunette added and caused John to chuckle, much to the younger man's confusion.

Giving a mock horrified expression to his new companion he flagged a waitress and had her lead them to their table before he really began to tease the slightly taller man.

"You can't burn this place down! Not yet at least. Wait until you have a full stomach, then plan your feat of arson. Burning a thriving business to the ground is always more enjoyable on a full stomach." With that John picked up his menu of topping and crust choices and waited for a reaction from his unnamed table companion.

Most of his friends would tell you that John Watson had a twisted sense of humor, and that was before he went to medical school and learned all sorts of inappropriate jokes about cadavers, so it came as a shock when the man sitting in front of him gave a startled laugh.

"True, so true. And maybe if their food is as good as it is reported to be I just may be lenient and only burn the wait staff." Fighting hard to repress a smile, John strove to give the impression of thinking hard about such a prospect.

"Hmm... the wait staff yes, but you must leave the chefs alive. If you got rid of them then the quality of the food would change." Giving another small laugh- and John couldn't help but notice how his companion's whole face lit up when he smiled- the brunette thrust his hand across the table.

"Jim." Taking the hand in his own, John gave it a shake.

"John." Trying to take back his hand he was stopped as the newly named Jim pulled it closer to himself for study.

"Medical student. Recently joined the Army, yet you hate violence. Worried about you brothers alcoholic tendencies, but have left it for his new wife to handle since you don't want to deal with another drunkard in your life." Letting go of the hand he had been holding captive, Jim picked up his own menu and began to read through the offered toppings.

"And don't worry about the bill, I'll cover it. You're going to need that extra money once you get deployed." John had sat, with his mouth slightly agape, through the whole run down of his life, and was only now finding his voice once more.

"H-how did you... Have you been following me?" Giving John a slightly shy, slightly aggrieved look, Jim answered with a huff.

"I have never laid eyes on you before tonight. So no, I have not been stalking you. You told me everything and I just repeated it out loud. It's a nasty habit that I'm trying to break myself of. It would be so much more mysterious if I just kept quiet and then sprung my deductions on people without them knowing that I knew anything before hand."

"Yes, it would. But still, how..." Sitting his menu down, Jim picked John's hand up again.

"You're a medical student. Easy enough to tell by the ink stains you haven't been able to wash off since your last jotting of notes to yourself on your palm. You can just make out the words 'fulminated fibrosis page twenty'. Which, being that it is a medical term coupled with a book page, is something a med student would need to know." John didn't even have to look to know the mark Jim was pointing out as he had had the bloody stain for a week now thanks to Mike and his lending of a permanent marker.

"Recently joined the Army. Now that was a bit of a guess I'll admit, it could have been any branch of the service really, but you have certain ground loving sense about you; so I went with Army. I could tell given your posture, and your new hair cut. You had much longer hair before going through basic." The waitress arrived then and Jim ordered both their drinks before telling her that they needed a moment longer to look over their menus.

"And my... brother?" John prompted after she had left, after giving their joined hands a sneer that only Jim noticed and filed away.

John was in a bit of a daze from having his life laid bare before him, but he was also amazed that this young man could get all of this information from just a simply handshake.

"Yes, your watch told me all about him. A newer model of one of the more popular men's watches, less than a year old, but the face is scratched and the dial has been nearly broken off. You are obviously far to practicle and precise- judging by the meticulous care given to your clothing- to damage such a luxury item such as this so carelessly. So a present from a family member or close friend, family member being the most likely, so brother. And recently married as he gave you the watch so his new wife wouldn't see how he hadn't been taking care of it and infer that he would treat their marriage the same way. Which he will." He paused to glare hatefully at the homophobic waitress as she set their drinks on the table and left.

"Your hand had twitched slightly when I mentioned your brother's alcohol abuse, so you have bad memories associated with heavy drinking and hate to be reminded of it. Plus you are in an alcohol free establishment the day finals are over instead of in a bar with your friends, it wasn't too far to leap. And as for covering the bill..." He finally re-released John's hand and retook up his menu as he still didn't know what to get for himself.

"Isn't that what one is supposed to do on a date?" It took exactly eighteen seconds for John to catch up and react to his words- Jim had been silently counting- and he was once more shocked by what came out of this odd blonde's mouth.

"Brilliant! Just... brilliant. And I would be glad to make this a date as I've never been on one with a gorgeous genius before." Picking up his own menu to finish deciding on what he wanted, and to begin filling in the order card so that the kitchen staff would know just what he wanted, John didn't notice the pole-axed look passing over Jim's face.

John had called him brilliant! Brilliant and gorgeous, all in one breath. He had never been called either before and now he had been called both in the same night by the same man!

He thought about giving a small 'Thank you' for the complement, but he didn't really know if that was the socially acceptable thing to do since he had never been complemented before.

Turning back to menu he found that he just couldn't decide on what to get. Putting the thing down he decided to just get a pepperoni and leave the more adventurous things alone.

"So what are you getting?" John asked as he finished writing out his order as neatly as possible, he didn't want to write sloppily and get the wrong topping because of it.

"Just pepperoni, I really don't eat this sort of thing much so I don't know what combinations would taste the best. The most I know is that anyone eating pineapple on a pizza should have their head examined, preferably once it has been removed." When he was met with silence he turned to look at his blonde date.

He was taken aback by the look of total adoration on John's face.

"What?" He asked after several seconds when the staring man hadn't even blinked.

"I said the same thing the first time my roommate insisted that pineapple was the best topping ever put on pizza. You have to be the most perfect person I have ever met, where have you been hiding yourself?" Trying not to blush, and failing miserably, Jim turned the conversation back to their orders by picking up one of the order cards off the table.

"So I just need to fill this out, right?" He quickly berated himself for the sheer stupidity of that question, but John just smiled- and how had he not noticed those cute dimples before?- and went along with the topic change.

"Yes. But I'd rather you try something more daring than just pepperoni. Not that it isn't good, it is one of my favorite toppings, but it is rather plain considering that you can get anything you want here." Weighing his options, and picking up several more cards to hand to the perplexed almost-doctor, Jim decided to live a little.

"Don't mind the cost, I can cover it, just order your favorites and I'll at least try them." John hesitated for only a moment before he started to fill out three more order cards.

As he handed them to the waitress- he was slightly put off by her snobby attitude, but then again all the floor staff acted that way- Jim finally asked him what he had ordered.

"It's a surprise, but if you want to try and figure it out then you'll just have to guess." And, with a smile on his face, Jim began to try and unravel the mystery of the pizza toppings.

He had never thought that a game based on his deductive skills could be so much fun! He made a mental note to try it out on a larger scale someday, though it would probably be more fun if he found someone else to participate in the game as well.

But he dismissed that last thought out of hand- he had never met anyone else capable of what he could do after all.

It took forty-five minutes for their order to arrive- and Jim knew the only reason that their waitress hadn't spit on their food was because her boss was on the floor and he decided he would need to teach her some manners, but not while he was on a date with such an amazing catch as he had been unexpectedly gifted with- and Jim had only been ably to deduce two of the four pizzas. And the fact that John's brother was actually his sister.

Coincidently the first two trays laid on the table- and taking up all the available space so that the others would have to rest on portable stands next to them- where the ones Jim had figured out.

Plain pepperoni on a hand tossed crust was the first- that one had been the easiest to figure out since John was too nice a bloke to not order something that he knew Jim would like- the second was a nachos inspired one.

Thin crust with a layer of nacho cheese; topped with ground beef, white onions, green onions, jalapenos and then more nacho cheese. The green onions had been the hardest part to figure out, but he would soon quickly agree that they added a necessary depth of flavor.

Those two out-of-the-way he looked over the others, and then shot John a quizzical look.

"They are a cheeseburger pizza and a buffalo chicken pizza, with ranch dip on the side in case it's too hot. You said you would at least try them." Nodding his assent, Jim let John dish him up a slice of the cheeseburger one first.

He carefully examined it before he tried a bite.

Deep dish crust- and boy did it need it- with yellow mustard working as the sauce, then the toppings started: ground beef was expected, and then things turned odd, slices of tomato, leaves of lettuce, dill pickles, white onions and all of it topped off by a thick layer of a cheese mix. He thought it might be a Colby and Monteray Jack blend, but he wasn't completely certain.

Taking a bite he was assailed by the mix of flavors- it was just like a cheeseburger, but far less greasy; and you got the full range of flavors all in one easy to chew bite!

It wasn't until John chuckled that he realized he was giving a low moan and had already eaten half of the large slice.

Blushing- John had a very sexy laugh Jim realized- he decided to try the others before he made a scene.

Taking a slice of the buffalo style, he gave it the same once over as he had the cheeseburger.

Hand tossed crust, no sauce but then the chicken had enough on it that it hadn't needed any more. The chicken had been shredded and soaked in a hot buffalo sauce and then layered on the crust and topped with cheddar and smoked provolone cheeses.

The first bite set his mouth on fire, and he immediately dived into the ranch dip.

The next two hours were spent in a pleasant haze of good food and pleasant company, and before he knew it Jim had asked John back to his flat for the night.

"That would be nice." John said, and with a flash of his dimples he had Jim under his spell once again.

JMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJW

John was a bit overwhelmed once they reached Jim's flat.

It was huge! And the view was fantastic.

Putting their boxed up leftovers in the fridge, the two young men settled on Jim's sofa.

"You know that I could be a serial killer that simply led you here so that I could have my way with you and then dispose of your body at my leisure, right?" This time when John chuckled Jim let himself laugh as well, he had never felt so relaxed around someone before. Or as accepted.

So caught up was he in his happy musings he almost didn't catch what John was asking him.

"What?" Rolling his eyes, John repeated his question.

"I said: How would you dispose of my body? Dropping it down the trash chute would get it outside, but then what?" There was a hint of humor in John's serious blue eyes, so Jim decided to answer honestly and see how John reacted.

"I'd call one of my people to come and collect and bury it." Out of all the reactions he expected to see- fear, humor, disgust- John gave him the one he hadn't been prepared for: disdain.

"Burial? Dull." Interest peaked- as it had been ever since he had first been approached about sharing a table- Jim had to know what was going through that unpredictable mind.

"What would you do then?" John settled back on the comfy sofa and looked to give it some thought.

"Mulch." Was his eventual reply, and a confused Jim simply raised an eyebrow in encouragement to elaborate.

"I worked at an industrial composting site in my teens. If I had to dispose of a body I would first freeze it, then run it through a shredder. Add the shreds to a giant compost heap, and in no time you have human mulch. Simple. And all trace evidence is destroyed by the gawd-awefull heat those heaps produce." Filling the scenario away for future use, Jim pulled John into a chaste kiss.

"Johnny, my boy, you are perfect." Blushing darkly, John turned his head away without pulling his body away from Jim's warmth.

"I-I've never kissed a guy before." He confessed.

"You're just like your pizza choices, you know that? So unexpected, yet too perfect to not sink your teeth into." Jim then leaned forward and took John's soft lips into a gentle kiss once more.

He could definitely get used to this, he realized.

Unknown to him, John was thinking the same thing.

A few weeks later when the news showed a picture of their waitress and said that she was missing John didn't think twice about it, and it would be years later- when he was living with Sherlock- that he would learn that Jim had bought up several composting and mulching businesses across the country and throughout Europe.


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: It's going to get a bit angsty in the middle, so sorry about that. But you shouldn't worry too much about it because I believe in happy endings- at least for my favorite boys I do. So enjoy!_

**Di****sclaimer: I so don't own.**

John was feeling good, better than he had since being shot.

He had a great flat, an odd but amazing new friend and he finally had something to post on his blog.

It was a week to the day since he had first been introduced to Sherlock, and he had just posted his- carefully edited- blog about their first case together. Now he felt like celebrating!

And what better way to celebrate than with pizza?

"Sherlock, I'm getting pizza for dinner. What toppings do you want?" He asked his flatmate politely before heading out the door.

"Pineapple." Came the immediate reply.

John froze for a moment before turning back to the seated man hunched over his microscope in the kitchen.

He hadn't really expected a reply- after only a week he was already used to being ignored- and so being answered was almost as shocking as the request itself, almost.

"P-pineapple?" He asked for clarification, all the while trying not to gag.

"Yes, it is the only topping I can stand on pizza." Looking up from his microscope, Sherlock was just in time to see John turn green.

Not knowing what had caused such a reaction, or why the doctor was staring at him as if he had just grown a second head, he stood up and approached the shorter man.

"John, are you alright?" He asked as that was the socially acceptable thing to say.

"Fi-fine. I'm just fine. I-I should go and-and get you your pizza." John managed to stutter out before rushing out the door.

Sherlock watched him go with mild fascination.

Quickly going over the previous conversation in his head he came to the conclusion that it was his choice of pineapple on pizza that had caused that reaction in his friend.

Smiling slightly at the thought that he had a friend now, Sherlock went back to his experiment and dismissed John's reaction from his mind.

It was only a pizza topping after all, it wasn't as if he had murdered someone. John would return and then things would settle once more.

JMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJW

Alighting from the cab- there were not too many places that he trusted to make a good pizza and his favorite was on the opposite side of the city from Baker street- John made his way inside the run-down looking building and over to the counter.

"One large, hand-tossed, fully loaded; and one medium, hand tossed, with-with ah... pineapple." The proprietor of the little family run shop, and who was running the counter tonight, knew John and his opinions on pineapple on pizza.

Giving John a worried look he asked if the blonde was sure.

"No, I'm not." The ex-soldier replied.

"But my new flatmate says that he won't eat any other kind, so ultimately: yeah, I'm sure." Sighed John as he paid for the pizzas.

Taking his order he headed out to try and hail a cab back to Baker street, but came face to face with a well dressed man leaning against a black car instead.

"Really John, pineapple? Even if you're getting it for a friend that's still gross." The light Irish lilt had the doctor grinning, and the dark gaze roving over him was making him blush.

Getting into the car without a second thought, John thought about the last time that he had seen this man.

_Years ago:_

_"I don't understand." The blonde said, he was close to whining he knew but couldn't bring himself to care in these circumstances._

_"What's to understand? You're deploying at the end of the week, and I'm giving you back your freedom." The brunette said as he continued to pack his last few items away, never once turning to look at his lover- now ex-lover he supposed, since he had just dumped him._

_"But what if I don't want my freedom back?" John was openly whining now and he would soon be begging he knew._

_He just didn't want to lose his Jim, the only person that had ever made him, John 'One Night Stand' Watson, want to settle down._

_"I won't tie you down, not when you're going to be knee-deep in willing women and having to prove your masculinity to you new brothers in arms." Picking up his suitcase, Jim headed for the door. His other possessions had already been shipped and all he had to do was walk out the door, but of course it wouldn't be that simple._

_"Is this really about you protecting me from your criminal activity?" John's quiet question stopped Jim in his tracks._

_Turning back to the blonde he tried to speak, to come up with anything to say, but words suddenly failed him. It was something that only ever seemed to happen to him around John, and was one of the reasons that he loved the man so much._

_"I'm not an idiot, Jim. I may not be able to observe and deduce like you do, but I've seen and overheard enough over the last year that we've been together to realize some of what you do." Taking Jim by the hand John sat them down on the sofa, the same sofa that they had shared their first kiss on._

_Looking down at their entwined hands, unable to meet the fathomless depths of the other man's eyes, John poured his heart out in a last-ditch effort to keep this perfect man with him._

_"I'll admit to being shocked, and a bit dismayed, when I first realized what it was that you did for a living; but I quickly got over it." Caressing his thumb over Jim's knuckles he grounded himself for this next part._

_"I sat down and thought about all the horrible things you could be doing, and had probably already done, and then I thought about whether or not I could live with any of it and I came to one simple answer." John looked up and caught Jim's dark eyes with his own blue ones._

_"I love you Jim. And no matter what you do, no matter what people say, that is a truth that will never change. You are my Jim, criminal mastermind or what-have-you, and I love you." Bringing their clasped hands up to his face he kissed them and waited for a response, any response, to what he had just said._

_"Johnny..." John knew that whatever Jim was about to say was serious, Jim only ever called him 'Johnny' when he had an important point to make- or when they were in bed together._

_"Johnny, my sweet, my love... I love you too. But you can see that this is for the best, can't you? I won't have you getting hurt because of what I do." Pulling one hand free he began to run it through John's short hair as the blonde processed what had just been said._

_Shaking off his sudden giddiness- Jim loved him, he really loved him!- John tried to form an argument that would keep them together._

_"Shouldn't that be my choice though? Shouldn't I at least get some say in this? We love each other, we can find a way to make this work. Whether overcoming 'don't ask, don't tell', or hiding a weakness from your enemies, we can make this work. Please Jim, don't leave me." He was begging now, and he didn't care._

_Soft lips at his temple, and a pair of strong, warm arms around his shoulders told John just how much this was all hurting Jim as well._

_"I don't want to leave you John, but I can't risk you either. My business is taking a new turn, and I'll soon be making bigger enemies than you can possibly imagine. I can't risk them finding you, especially not when you'll be off in a hostile environment where a stray bullet can come from anywhere." Another kiss, this time at the corner of his eye, made John aware that he was crying._

_"You are the most important person in this world to me, John, and I will not put you in harm's way. And I also won't have you waiting for me if I wind up 'disappearing'." John's breath hitched at that, he had been so caught up in Jim trying to protect him that he had forgotten that Jim's life would be in danger too._

_The thought of Jim being hurt- or worse, killed- without John either knowing or being there for him was terrifying._

_Clutching onto Jim with everything he had, John turned his head and captured Jim's lips in a tear-stained kiss. _

_He could understand why Jim was doing what he was doing, but that didn't mean he had to like it, it also didn't mean that he couldn't make Jim a promise._

_Pulling back from the kiss, John pressed his forehead against his lover's. After resting there a moment he collected his thoughts and spoke._

_"Jim, I love you, and I want you to know that. And you need to know that you will be the only man that I will ever take to my bed." When his brunette took a breath to protest, John just shook his head and planted a small kiss on the side of his mouth._

_"We may never see each other again- though I hope someday you'll deem it safe enough so that we can at least talk to one another once more- and I need you to know just how much you've effected me over this past year. You, Jim Moriarty, are the only man that I will ever willingly let touch my body." With that he pressed a kiss, this one much deeper than its predecessors, onto the soft lips of the man who was holding him._

_"Please Jim, just one last time. Just something to remember you by." John whispered into Jim's ear as he began to nibble on it._

_With a moaning rendition of John's' name on his lips, Jim pulled his blonde up and led him to the bedroom. _

_Just one last time, just one last thing to remember him by. He could do that._

_The next morning when John woke up he was alone._

_Refusing to give-in to tears he spent the rest of the day lounging around in their bed, going over the details of their last night together- and the several rounds of love-making that had happened- so that he would never forget it._

_That evening he finished packing up the last of his possessions- and one of Jim's ties, the one with the skulls on it as it had always been his favorite- and by morning he was ready to start his new life in the Army._

Present day:

"How have you been, John?" The brunette sitting next to him in the car asked politely, and only someone who knew him well- of which there had only ever been one person on Earth who did, namely John- would be able to tell just how nervous he truly was at this moment.

Weighing his options- John could either tease his ex and draw this out, or he could just kiss him like he really wanted to- John decided to just go with what felt right.

Placing the boxes he was holding behind him, he scooted as close to Jim as possible.

Grabbing a handful of tie- silk with tiny skulls he absently noted- the blonde leaned in until their lips were almost touching.

"I've been lonely. How about you?" As Jim began to splutter John simply smirked.

He had always been able to fluster this man, and he was glad to see that things hadn't changed in that respect.

"I've been lonely too, John, so very lonely." Jim finally managed to get out.

Making a rapid decision, and not caring in that moment what the consequences would be- John really shouldn't have gotten so close if he didn't want this- Jim wrapped his arms around John and pulled him into a passion filled kiss.

Melting against Jim- this had been the outcome he had been hoping for all along- John let himself be ravished by those hungry lips he had been dreaming about for years now.

JMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJW

Walking back into the flat, sans boxes, John tried to be casual about heading to his room; but of course this had to be the one time that his flatmate would take active interest in his comings and goings.

"I thought you were getting pizza?" The man said without looking up from what he was dissecting- John really hoped that it was only liver and not something even worse.

"I-I was, I did, but then I changed my mind." John stuttered as he started moving towards his room again.

"You've been gone two hours, John, more than enough time to pick up an order and bring it home." Finally looking up from the pickled hand he was pulling apart- and if anyone asked he would say it was for a case, but we all know better- Sherlock's questioning was derailed by a new line of inquest that he felt he needed to follow.

"John, why is the back of your jumper covered in pineapple and pizza sauce?" John flushed red and made a mad dash to his room and a new change of clothing.

Once clean again, but still blushing like mad- he had found one of the green peppers from his pizza in his underwear- the doctor finally went back down-stairs. He wasn't at all surprised to see Sherlock waiting for him there.

Before he could open his mouth to explain the tall detective had already begun listing his deductions.

"You met an old lover while on your way back to the flat, pizzas in hand. He offered you a ride, and you eagerly excepted. On the way here you rekindled your lost flame and have spent the last hour snogging on top of the pizza boxes- which is why you were covered in pizza toppings and didn't bring any in with you." Raking John over with a calculating eye Sherlock nodded to himself and went back to his pickled hand.

"Next time you see you ex-ex, try not to make such public spectacles of yourselves. The backseat of a car, John? You are not a teenager anymore, I had expected more from you." Gaping like a fish, John managed to wrap his mind around at least a few of the points made.

"I'm not even going to ask how you know all that- absolutely brilliant as it was- but I will ask how you know it was a man that I met. And what do you mean 'next time'?" John asked, it was this similarity to Jim that had first made John latch onto Sherlock and it was still fascinating to try and see the world through either man's eyes.

"Don't be dull, John." And there was the biggest difference between the two geniuses, Jim would never insult John like that.

"Obviously a man- perhaps an overly aggressive woman, but in this case definitely a man- and the only one that you were ever 'with', as they say. And you will see him again, tonight no doubt, or else you wouldn't have put on date clothes after changing." John's phone chimed just then.

"I suspect that's him now, letting you know that the mess in his backseat is cleaned up and he's waiting to take you to dinner." Deductions and explanations done, he picked up his scalpel again and started to extract the bones from one of the fingers.

"Amazing, and spot on too. I'll be back late- or maybe tomorrow- try to eat something in the meantime. And I'll introduce you to him one of these days too, you two have a lot in common after all and I'm sure you'll get on quite well." Heading out the door John didn't hear the derisive snort coming from the kitchen.

He would get on well with this old flame of John's? Who was the good doctor kidding here, he never got on well with anyone- John excepted- and he very much doubted that that would change any time soon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Not mine and you know it!**

It had been a few weeks since John had started seeing his old lover again and Sherlock had yet to meet the man, even though John was all for the two of them getting together and being friends- or as close to friends as either man would be willing to be the doctor revised silently in his head.

John had a plan to get them into the same room together, and he had Mrs. Hudson's full enthusiasm and help- Jim had turned on the charm one night when he came to pick John up and within five minutes he had the little old landlady wrapped around his little finger- but of course such carefully laid plans were doomed before they ever had a chance.

Especially when some inconsiderate jerk has to go on a killing spree and leaves three cooling and dismembered corpses inside a locked house.

John was standing on the sideline watching Sherlock do his thing- he had already texted Jim that he would be late for their date- and was providing interference between the tall genius and the 'expert' forensic tech.

And it was taking a lot for John to not lat into Anderson himself.

After the tenth time of keeping Sherlock from insulting anyone's intelligence, and the sixth time of telling the bumbling buffoons that 'No, that [insert whichever body part that was mislaid] doesn't belong there. Just look at the pattern of the incision!' he was about to either hit someone or scream. But thankfully he didn't have to do either as he found a perfect distraction waiting for him outside when he stepped out to get some air.

"So this is why you said you'd be late, John? A simple crime of passion?" Trying not to grin like a hormonal teen, John turned to see his lover standing just outside the police tape.

"Well, I needed ideas on what to do the next time you try to leave me." John chuckled out as he wandered over to the immaculately dressed man, he always felt under-dressed when Jim wore his Westwood.

Giving a large pout, Jim answered the tease with a jibe of his own.

"And you know just how to get rid of the body too, don't you?" They had been doing this ever since their first date: teasing each other, taking light-hearted jabs at each other and, usually after a fantastic night in bed, actually talking about what they had been doing for the past decade or so.

When Jim had started telling John- at the doctor's insistence- about some of his more sordid dealings he had been afraid that he was about to lose the blonde after only just getting him back.

And then John had told him about some of the horrors he had seen- and done, though he hated to admit it even to himself- while overseas.

It hadn't taken long for them to each realize just how broken the other had become in their time apart, and secretly vowing to never put the other through that again.

So now they were taking it slow, feeling each other out again as it were, and trying to keep things light in between the serious discussions.

And of course this peaceful moment just had to be ruined.

"Oi! No more civilians behind the line!" Sargent Donovan yelled in her most grating manner as she strutted up to where John and Jim were standing on opposite sides of the tape.

"Sally." John said in his coolest tone, the Sargent had been getting more and more annoying as John spent more time around Sherlock and refused to heed her advise about leaving the man.

"John." She acknowledged as she eyed Jim up and down.

"I'm glad you're making new friends besides the Freak, maybe now you'll see what I mean and leave the bloody bastard to his own misfortunes, but he can't come in here." She pointed at Jim as she said the last.

Maybe it was the way that she just casually insulted Sherlock like he had no feelings, or perhaps it was the way she was undressing Jim with her eyes, either way John had had enough.

But before he could open his mouth and lay into the ignorant... woman in front of him Sherlock, Lestrade and Anderson came out of the house and over to their little group.

Passing a look over them all, and barely lingering over Jim with a small glare, the detective turned to Donovan as he went to pass under the police tape.

"Hitting on John's boyfriend now, Sally? Isn't Anderson enough for you anymore, or are you finally planning on trading up?" Her splutterings followed John as he passed under the tape himself.

"Sir!" She finally got out once she found her tongue, but Lestrade was still reeling from the discovery that John had a boyfriend.

"Drop it Sal, even I could see you checking him out and I was still in the house." With that the D.I. shook off his shock and redirected his attention to the tall man standing opposite him.

"You still haven't said who could have done this, you know." Pulling his eyes from the suited figure standing next to his John and typing on an expensive phone, Sherlock turned to the D.I. and prepared himself to launch into his stream of deductions now that he was near his favorite audience- John Watson.

But before he could utter a sound another voice spoke up.

"It was the girl's boyfriend. He thought she was cheating on him- which she was, just not with those two in there- and he chopped them up to make clean up easier but had to take off in the middle of the process because he realized that the mess was just too big for him to hide. Pure amature work. He's most likely at his apartment, or hiding out at his parents place." Finally looking up from his texting, Jim gave John a soft smile as the doctor leaned in to give him a peck on the cheek while wearing a blindingly proud smile of his own.

"I've changed our reservations, so we've got another little while for you to give your statement and get ready. What?" The last was addressed to the staring police officials and the glowering Consulting Detective.

"And just how do you know all that?" Lestrade asked in a voice full of suspicion.

"Obviously because you all told me. Just look at your feet and all the evidence you're dragging around. Why you people can't figure it out is a complete mystery to me." He may have elaborated further, but Anderson chose that moment to lower everyone's IQ.

"Damn John, what is with you and the freaks? Do you attract them or something?" As Sally snickered Lestrade backed away.

He had seen murderous looks before and he didn't want to be anywhere around this obvious genius when he blew, unlike with Sherlock he didn't know what direction such an occurance would take.

But after a moment Jim got himself under control and turned a sickeningly sweet smile on the two laughing officials, making them instantly quieten.

"You are both ones to talk, and you should be grateful that you've been dealing with Sherlock instead of me for this long. I wouldn't have been pulling my punches concerning you illicit relationships." As Sally began to splutter Anderson proved his idiocy all over again.

"So what punches has the freak been pulling that you wouldn't have?" Lestrade simply wanted to walk away, but found himself entranced by the level of sheer stupidity that his forensic tech had just sunk to.

It was like watching a car wreck in slow motion, he mused.

His shark like grin widening even further, Jim lay into the mindless grunts before him who had had the audacity to insult his John.

"First off, she isn't the only woman your cheating with: there are six of them, and you work with them all without any of them realizing. But I'll take care of that later, as well as informing your lovely wife that she now has the ammunition for a divorce that will allow her to keep all her inheritance that you are attempting to swindle her out of." As Anderson turned red, and then a deathly pale, Jim turned slightly to look at the defiant Sally Donovan.

"And you're actually a bi-sexual lesbian, leaning more towards women than men which is why you overcompensate with weasels like this one to prove to the world that you're all woman. A pity though, since if you'd been honest all along, and less uptight about it, your career wouldn't be in the shitter like it is now. Having an openly gay D.I. would have been great for NSY's public image." Jim surveyed his handy work- two pale, trembling and thoroughly pissed but unable to do anything about it police officials- and draped his arm around a thoroughly amused ex-soldier's waist.

"And if I ever hear either of you insult my John in any way again I will happily show you just much trouble I can cause you. Each." With that he pulled John away from the crime scene and into his waiting car, not even giving a blink when Sherlock stepped in behind them like he was invited.

"You know you both deserved that, right?" Was the last thing John heard Greg say as he was pulled away by his incredible boyfriend.

As they pulled away from the curb John took a moment to realize that he finally had his geniuses in an enclosed space together- and no-one was dead yet!

Taking this as a good sign, John decided to try making introductions.

"Sherlock, this Jim. Jim Moriarty. Jim, you know Sherlock Holmes." John may have missed Sherlock's reaction to the Jim's full name, but Jim certainly hadn't.

Giving a slim smile to the detective he put a protective arm around the doctor.

Giving a slight nod of acknowledgement for the unspoken promise of dire consequences should John be hurt in any way, Sherlock turned his attention to out the window so as to know where they were headed. He wanted to be prepared if they where to be suddenly 'disappeared'.

John may not have caught Sherlock's reaction, but he did catch Jim's follow-up.

Realizing that they had been having a silent conversation over his head, and that Sherlock was somehow now aware of Jim's' profession, he gave a weary sigh and asked the car in general:

"Can we all be friends, or are you two going to make me choose between you? Because I really don't think I could do that." Jim pulled John in closer to him, but it was Sherlock that answered the question.

"So long as you're available for cases I don't care who you sleep with." Looking over the lanky frame of his flatmate and friend, John turned to Jim with a question in his eyes.

"I already told you that I rescheduled our reservations, I had them add a third seat in the process too." The kiss he received was all the thanks he needed for allowing the detective to accompany them on their date.

He had told John about the surveillance on, and plans he'd had for, Sherlock- plans that he was no longer going to follow through with since it had upset the doctor that his lover was going after his friend- and so it wasn't as if he didn't know what to expect during the meal: jealous bickering over John, a permanent tug-of-war over the doctor, and all of it attempting to take place without the blonde knowing about it.

Plus Sherlock's attempts to split them up since he obviously didn't believe Jim had any real feelings for John.

Dinner was going to pure hell, he knew, but as long as John was happy then he could survive it.

Sherlock kept the smirk he was feeling well away from his face. Taking John on as a flatmate- and subsequent friend, he quietly added- had been the best idea he had ever had.

He now had a face to match to the name he had gotten from the dead cabby, and as soon as he got John to realize that Jim was only using him to get to Sherlock then the detective could start taking the criminal mastermind down.

Until then he would just have to get through this silly dinner, and perhaps have some fun as well as gaining information to start the dismantling process.

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"-completely uncalled for."

"John."

"How could you have even-"

"John."

"-and why would you have-"

"Just listen..."

"I don't even know why-"

"I can explain..."

"And I thought you where my friend!" John yelled as he slammed the flat door closed behind them.

"John, he is a criminal mastermind!" Sherlock tried to interject his reasoning into the argument that he didn't understand why they were having.

"I know that! I've known that for more than a decade now! It's part of the reason I fell in love with him in the first place!" John screamed out at his surprised flatmate.

Jim was having a blast watching all this from his place by the sofa.

"What?!"

They had been kicked out of the restaurant not twenty minutes after being shown to their table, just after John had figured out what Sherlock was up too.

"You heard me!"

They had been quietly asked to leave once Sherlock's nose stopped bleeding and Jim had stopped laughing.

"If you were in love back then, then why did you split up?"

It had been an intense- to say the least- car ride to Baker street.

"Because he was trying to protect me!" Jim decided that this was as good a time as any to weigh in.

"He was getting deployed into a high risk environment, and I was starting to make some keen enemies, splitting up was the easiest and most effective method of keeping him safe." He strode forward and placed a conciliatory arm around the still angry doctor.

A sharp sneer was Sherlock's only reaction.

"Sherlock, why do you think I took a chance at being your friend in the first place? Why do you think I didn't listen to everyone- including you own brother- who told me to stay away from you?" Placing his own arm around Jim, John gave Sherlock a small smile.

"It was because you reminded me of Jim. And before you go complaining you should know that the reason I stayed was because you stopped reminding me of him." Two sets of confused looks met this confession.

Another small smile- this one aimed at both men- and John tried to elaborate.

"I was hurt, and in need of a friend, when we first met; and you were so much like the best friend I'd ever had that I just wanted that comfort. Within minutes of our first meeting you had even deduced me just as Jim had the very first time that he and I met, and I was simply blown away." Taking a seat on the sofa, with Jim close at his side, John took a breath and continued.

"But I quickly realized that it would be wrong of me to hold on to you as a reminder of a man that I thought that I would never see again, so I decided that I wouldn't hang around you anymore."

"And what, pray-tell, changed your mind?" Sherlock stooped to asking when John paused for breath.

"You did, you great bloody git!" John stated with a huff.

"You let me in and showed me just how unlike Jim you really are, and I realized that your brilliance- though reminiscent of Jim's'- was truly and uniquely yours." Standing from his seat he walked up to the still standing detective and placed a friendly hand on his shoulder.

"I know that you just want to protect me from a perceived threat, and maybe you're also a little afraid that with Jim around I won't want to hang out with you and solve crimes together, but you needn't worry. He is my lover, you are my best friend; and I don't want any of that to change. Now I'm going to go make us all some tea, and you two are going to work this out. I won't have more incidents like the one we just had tonight." Giving each man a scorching stare he headed into the kitchen to put the kettle on.

Turning to the relaxed form of Jim Moriarty, the World's only Consulting Criminal if he had deduced right, Sherlock perched in his chair and waited. He refused to be the first one to speak in this game.

"I won't hurt him, Sherlock." The Irishman said after he had been glared at for a time.

"In fact, if you ever hurt him yourself I'll make it my life's mission to completely destroy you." Flashing the grin that had help him build his Empire, Jim waited for the other's predicted response to his threat; and he wasn't disappointed.

"And you should know that the only reason that I am not coming after you as of this minute is because of John." After unspoken threats flashed between their open glares they turned away and waited in silence for the one man that would keep them from the other's throat to reappear.

"Here we are." John looked between his two geniuses as he passed out the tea.

He knew that it would be too much to ask that they would simply fall into each others' arms and declare eternal friendship, but he had hoped for a bit more camaraderie than this icy silence. But he would take what he could get, for now at least.

"So... shall we order in? Seeing as how I never got dinner, that is." Jim placed a light kiss on John's cheek as he pulled out his phone.

John was acting in an unexpected way, as always.

Jim had seen it years ago while sitting in a pizza place and swapping stories in a manner that he had never done before, and had quickly fallen in love with the man because of it.

Sherlock had seen it at their first crime-scene together and had taken a liking to the short doctor while trying to understand how such a plan man could be so unpredictable, tonight simply confirmed in his mind the fact that John Watson was an incredible man with many hidden talents and untapped depths.

John just sat back and wondered just how he had gotten so lucky to befriend two such amazing men in his life. Now if he could just get them to work together and not bicker when they thought he was out of earshot- though the things they had said had been very touching, in their own way- things would be even better.


	4. Chapter 4

_AN: So this is it, the last chapter of my pizza-craving induced story line. I hope you all have enjoyed it as much as I have enjoyed writing it._

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, NOTHING! Mwahahahahah! Wait, why am I laughing?**

"Do you really think this will work? I mean, the way he has been deleting it every time I talk to him about it..."

"Don't worry, love, once it's over with then he'll just have to live with it. Not backing out, are you?"

"No! I want this more than I can say, it's just..." Jim leaned over and kissed John softly on the cheek.

"I know, you want him there supporting you as your best friend should do. I promise that this is the best way to go about it, and everyone else is on board. It will all be fine. Now come on, we need to get ready."

"Fine. And Jim... thank you."

"No problem, Johnny! I'd topple governments for you, you know? So manipulating one little sociopath into attending a wedding isn't too much of a hassle."

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He slowly came out of his mind-palace and was immediately distracted by something hanging in front of his eyes, reaching up a hand he removed the envelope that had been tapped to his forehead.

Turning it over in his hands a moment he concluded that it only contained a simple piece of card stock that would have a message written on it, unfortunately he would need to open the thing in order to read the missive.

'Sherlock!

If you want to see John one last time I'd suggest you start by making him some tea.

You ever faithful psychopath,

Jim'

Eyes widening at the implication- He had known that the man couldn't be trusted!- Sherlock scrambled into the kitchen to look for John's favorite mug and the next clue to his blogger's wearabouts.

Picking up the mug he fished the scrap of paper out of the bottom.

'Put on your best suit, you're going to want to be well dressed for this."

Heading into his room Sherlock paused only a moment at seeing that all his clothes were missing except his most formal suit and purple shirt. Pinned to the collar was the next clue.

'Without him you two would never have met, but she's the one you should be thankful for.'

St. Bart's lab.

Throwing on his clothes he rushed out of the flat and hailed a cab, while the cabby headed to the old hospital Sherlock pulled out his phone.

**Moriarty has John. SH**

**I know little brother, but you must figure this one out for yourself. My hands are tied on this matter. MH**

Closing his phone he sat back with a thudding heart, without Mycroft to back him up getting John out unharmed was going to be a lot harder.

The next clue was easy enough to find as it was sitting on top of his favorite microscope in the still laboratory.

'His name is Greg. But you don't remember that do you?'

Greg? Who did he know named 'Greg'?

A rapid check of his mind palace eventually gave him the answer.

Lestrade!

He saw the name 'Greg' on the DI's badge whenever he took it.

He began tapping his foot on the ride to NSY, and it only got worse when the DI didn't take his calls or answer his texts.

Ignoring the curious stares he received from the desk-bound workers, Sherlock barged into Lestrade's office and began searching for his next clue.

It was taped under the chair John normally sat in.

'I can't believe he thought you two where dating. Just be glad John likes his food or you'd never get another free meal in your life!'

Angelo's.

Pushing through the door of the restaurant he immediately noticed that the large proprietor didn't pop out to greet him.

"He's overseeing a big catering event, but I was told to give you this when you showed up." One of the waiters- Sherlock couldn't be bothered to remember his name at a time like this- said in passing while handing the detective another envelope.

'It's amazing just how many friends you actually have, Sherly! They all look lovely sitting around and waiting for you too. Though the tourists are a bit pissed that they've been locked out.'

Suddenly realizing that he hadn't seen anyone that he had expected to while recovering the clues- Molly, Lestrade, even Mrs. Hudson had been remarkable for her absence- he concluded that the lives of all his friends now rested on his ability to win Moriarty's game.

Now all he needed to do was figure out where they were all being kept, and his answer was in this last clue.

A tourist destination recently closed off, large enough to hold a number of people and plausible enough for Angelo to be lured out for a catering job.

Think. Think! John's life could be riding on this!

Ah!

St. Bride's, off Fleet st.!

It was large enough to hold many people, hard to find unless you are looking for it- and even then it was hard to find- and being a church no-one would expect it to be used for evil purposes(ie: a hostage situation).

In what seemed like no time at all he found himself standing outside the medieval structure and looking around for guards.

"There you are! I was half afraid you really weren't going to show up. Now come on, everyone is waiting." And with that Jim ducked back inside, leaving the door agar for the detective to follow.

Stepping with caution Sherlock entered the ancient building, and froze.

Eyes taking in every detail, mind furiously trying to come to a conclusion other than the one he was coming to, he fought to keep his knees from buckling out from under him.

This was a wedding!

And not just any wedding, this was John getting married to Moriarty!

There was John's family, his old Army friends, their mutual friends and Mycroft- looking as smug as ever.

Moriarty was standing at the end of the isle with a grin, and John was coming up on his side.

"Thank you for coming, I know you didn't really want to." What?! He had never even been told- oh. He must have deleted it.

"If you'd just go up and stand with Greg- Lestrade, sorry- we can get the ceremony underway." The desperately hopeful look on the doctor's face finally broke the sociopath down.

"Fine." As he took his position next to the DI, Sherlock silently admitted that- except for the whole 'John is going to die' aspect of the day- playing Jim's game had been fun.

Scowling as he realized that he'd just thought of Moriarty as Jim, Sherlock pushed all those types of thoughts to the back of his mind to be examined at a later date.

For now he had a friend's wedding to watch.

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The reception was catered by Angelo. He took care of everything but the cake, that had been specially ordered.

It was large and flat, nearly a meter across and ten centimeters(five inches) thick. Much of the visible surface was made up of sculpted fondant and molded chocolate all painted in appropriate colors.

It was a pizza.

A cake made to look like a deep-dish supreme pizza.

Everyone was confused by the odd choice until Sherlock explained it to the room at large.

"They first met over pizza. Just look at them, it's obvious!" Sherlock's disgruntled mood had started to degenerate once he noticed his brother chatting up the DI in the corner, and was now just waiting for an opportunity to escape without offending John.

"You can go you know, I'm just glad you took part in the ceremony and didn't make a fuss." His ever surprising blogger said once the cake had been cut and everyone was milling about.

"I'll see you after my honeymoon, okay?" Giving a nod, Sherlock took off.

It wasn't until three days later that he realized that not only had he deleted John's wedding plans, but also John's plans to move out.

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"Do you think he's figured out where we've moved to yet?"

"Well, if he hasn't then he's not the detective he thinks he is." They were coming home after a three-week tour of the beaches of Spain.

They had walked along the sands, taken pictures and bought souvenirs; and then retreated back to whichever hotel they were currently staying at and tried to out due bunnies.

Now they were home- in their new flat that they hadn't stepped foot in since before the wedding and their ordering of a contractor and interior designer to fix it up- and looking through the cupboards that Jim's people had stocked for them.

Pulling out his favorite tea and turning on the kettle, John pulled out three mugs and set them on the counter.

"Just in case." He said with a wink to his husband who was looking at him from next to the window.

They had a lovely view of 221 across the road. When talking about potential flats Jim had mentioned the empty house that he'd planned to blow up to get Sherlock's attention, John had taken one look at it and knew that it would be perfect for them.

Just as they were settling down with their mugs a key turned in the lock and Sherlock came waltzing through the door as if he owned it.

"Bored." Was the only thing he said before flopping down on the sofa, John smiled slightly and set the third mug down next to the recumbent figure.

"How did you get a key? We only just got ours."

"Dull." The lanky man stated, but John was happy to note that he was drinking his tea as he said this.

"No cases I take it." Jim said in his innocent tone that John knew meant he was planning something.

"Why are the criminal classes being so lazy!" Sherlock shouted as he sprang up from the couch and began to pace.

"Why indeed. Perhaps you'll take a case for me then?" John hid his smile behind his mug as he realized what Jim was doing: He was making a peace-offering in the only way Sherlock might accept.

John really loved his husband for this- and he planned to show him just how much he loved him later that night.

"I don't work for my brother, so what makes you think I'll work for you?" But the doctor in the room saw through the indifferent facade and straight to the curious man-child practically bouncing in place as if waiting for a piece of candy.

He knew his geniuses too well, he though as he took their cups to his clean kitchen- no real telling how long that would last since Sherlock had a key and seemed ready to move in with them- and gave them some space to negotiate cases.

"Not all my consultations are criminal in origin or conclusion. How do you feel about helping to track down stolen merchandise that can't be reported to the police because of its sensitive nature? Or tracking assassins that killed the wrong person? Maybe helping to locate certain individuals that shouldn't be missing but that don't actually exist? How about stopping blackmailers?" John wandered in and passed out fresh mugs to the men in the room, as well as setting out a tray of chocolate hobnobs that neither genius was ever able to resist.

"I take care of most of these cases myself, but I'm sure John would enjoy having his husband home on occasion so I would like to hand over many of these projects to you while I spend time with him; and of course you can watch over John for me when I have to handle a situation myself." John knew Sherlock would accept the bargain just for a chance to see more of the workings of the criminal underbelly, but that last sentence sealed the deal.

If there was one thing he could count on it was his geniuses being possessive of his attention.

"I might possibly be interested." Sherlock began in a bored tone as he took one of the biscuits, but Jim had one final bit to add to ensure the deal.

"Did I mention that Mycroft is already trying to find ways of replacing John in your life." Jim said as he bit into one of the treats himself.

Eyes blazing- Mycroft had been trying to make him get a new flatmate since the wedding, but he hadn't realized it was to fully replace John until that moment- Sherlock couldn't think of a better revenge on his nosy brother than to work with his opposite in the criminal world.

"Do you have a case ready at the moment." With a smile Jim pulled out his laptop.

John relaxed in his seat as he watched his husband and best friend work out the logistics for finding a one of the kind painting- the real one, it was a good forgery that was being displayed in the Louvre- in Russia and returning it to its 'owner'.

He was just glad that they were starting to get along.

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Three Years later:

John trudged up the seventeen steps to the flat that he, sometimes, shared with Sherlock.

Even though Jim and Sherlock had come to shaky terms years before- they were as close to being friends as it was possible for either man to be when it didn't come to John- it had been quickly established that John- much to Sherlock's delight- would simply stay at 221b when Jim was away.

It made sense since Jim wanted to come home to not only a happy husband but also to a not destroyed kitchen, and if pressed he would admit that knowing John was being adequately protected was a relief.

As the blonde doctor entered his sometimes flat he began looking around for his friend when he didn't immediately see him in the kitchen or sitting room.

He finally found Sherlock in the most surprising place and doing something completely unexpected: he was in his bed and asleep!

Deciding his news could wait until the sleeping man got up on his own- it was two in the afternoon already, but John didn't know when the detective had finally crawled into bed- he decided to do some much-needed cleaning.

Three hours, five trash bags, a wish for a hazmat suit and a vow to never open the fridge again later Sherlock came striding into the clean kitchen and clutched at the mug John handed him.

"Congratulations are in order I see, though I don't see how you could possibly be happy with this." Not bothering to ask- he had long since learned that often times he just didn't want to know how the deductions were made- John just wrapped an arm around Sherlock's bony shoulders and gave him a squeeze.

"Greg is a good man, he deserves happiness and I'm glad to support him and be his bestman even if I do find his choice in partner... uh... odd." With that the ex-soldier turned back to the stove and the simple meal- he'd gone out to buy supplies rather than risk using anything from the fridge of doom- he'd been making for the tall man and himself.

Sherlock thought over the upcoming wedding- he'd learned his lesson about deleting such things with John's wedding- and suddenly felt a stab of guilt.

Not because of his treatment of either of the grooms- Lestrade and Mycroft both knew his feelings about their relationship, and yet still insisted on involving him in the wedding for some reason- but because of a previous wedding that he hadn't supported like he should have.

"John."

"Just a minute, Sherlock, I'm plating up." After he set two plates on the table John looked up at his friend.

"Okay. What is it?" Taking a bite from his own plate he nearly choked at the brunette's next statement.

"I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you at your wedding, I should have been. Jim is... good for you and good to you. He obviously doesn't deserve you but since he knows that too it's okay." As John finally caught his breath he turned shining eyes in his friend, a few minutes passed before he found his voice.

"Thank you. I've always wanted you and Jim to get along, you are the most important people in my life, and it means a lot to me that- even after all these years- you've come to accept him." John let the subject drop after that, knowing as he did that Sherlock would be uncomfortable with the level of emotion that had just been expressed.

After a few minutes of awkward silence- during which Sherlock actually ate nearly half his plate before growing bored with it- John cleared his throat and blatantly changed the subject.

"So! I'm Greg's bestman and you're Mycroft's. Should we combine the bachelor parties, or should we simply coordinate to keep them separate?" As John finished speaking Sherlock started laughing.

"You and Lestrade will go to a bar with the Yarders and some other friends, while Mycroft stays at home or in his office and I stay here and do an experiment. Only you would think that it would be any different."

"And why shouldn't it be?" Jim asked from the doorway.

Stepping inside he gave John peck on the lips and then stole Sherlock's plate of half uneaten food. This had become something of a common practice: no-matter which flat John happened to be in either Sherlock or Jim would eventually invade it and make themselves a part of whatever conversation was currently underway.

It had taken John several months to get used to it, but the geniuses acted like that was how it had always been.

"Mycroft will refuse to change his patterns even for his wedding, there is nothing that I want to do with the man and Lestrade will be happy having a pint with friends. So there is no need to plan something extravagant that will simply fall short of expectations." Sherlock said dismissively as he took over John's almost empty plate- now that Jim was eating from his he had a renewed appetite- and the doctor just rolled his eyes.

"Lestrade was John's bestman." A quick look of remorse passed across the detectives face before it turned blank once more.

"He took John to a pub with friends for drinks, they had a lovely time." Sherlock got a thoughtful look as Jim polished off his plate and cleared the table with a smirk.

"No! This is about Greg and Mycroft, not giving me a second bachelor party!" John yelled as he tried to stop the direction that their minds where going, but of course he was ignored.

"We'd need to get Mycroft interested in something and out of our hair."

"The director of the London Philharmonic Orcastra owes my a few favors, I'll get him to perform one of Mycroft's favorites. That should free us up from any interference."

"Mmm, and I have some ideas for where we can go." John slipped out of the flat at this point with an unheard yell of:

"Not going to happen!" But of course it did.

"John?"

"Greg?"

"Why did you want them to be friends again?"

"I don't remember."

The two men sat next to each other in the back of an armored car and waited while the two geniuses negotiated for Mycroft's release from some faction of the some government or something, they couldn't really keep up with all the events of the night.

"He'll be fine, don't worry. And then you'll be married and in a few decades time, and with plenty of therapy, you'll look back on tonight and laugh."

"Yeah, well. I'd settle for just having Myc back."

"I really am sorry, you know."

"I know. It wasn't really your fault anyway. But next time we need to celebrate something lets just go to the pub, yeah?"

"Yeah. No more runs on corrupt embassies or trying to take down arms dealers all in one night. I did try to tell them no, you know."

"I believe you." They sat in silence a while longer.

Suddenly the doors opened and three suit clad geniuses piled in the car and they were off in a hail of bullets.

Once safely ensconced in 221b- security on Baker street had been highly enhanced since Jim had made it his permanent residence- all five men relaxed.

Well... four men relaxed, Sherlock paced.

"They weren't supposed to be there." He growled out.

"Sit down, Sherlock, you'll figure out what happened later." John said as he moved to make everyone tea.

Greg leaned over to whisper into his fiance's ear.

"How does John put up with these two all the time? I was stuck with them for four hours tonight and nearly went insane." Brushing his lips against the DI's ear the government man answered with the only explanation he had been able to come up with after years of observation.

"He's a Saint."


End file.
